Last One Off
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: Han and Leia's youngest child Jarik gets married and Leia reflects on the life she shares with her husband and children. Fluffy and sentimental.


LAST ONE OFF

(Leia)

This is quite the day for the Solo household.

It's the wedding day for our youngest child, Jarik.

I can't believe it's already happened. It wasn't that long ago that he made his debut into the world; in fact, he was so eager to get to the outside world, he arrived two months early.

He's our only non-Force sensitive kid. That's not to say he wasn't a handful; he's Han in miniature. Well, was in miniature. He looks exactly like a young version of his father: lopsided smile, unruly hair, sparkling gold-green eyes. He's the same height as Han as well. He's an outstanding pilot; that seems to run on both sides of the family. He, Jaina and Jag took over the family shipping business that Han has become less of a participant in; he's 70 now, and while he does do some runs, and babies the _Falcon_ as much as ever, he's limited by a bad back and shoulder problems.

No matter. My husband is the hottest 70 year old guy in the universe.

Jarik's dated a few girls, but when he met the daughter of the Prime Minister of Cularin, it was clear he'd fallen head over heels in love with her. I've largely retired from the Ministry of State. I join the occasional delegation, but I mostly spend my time with Han and my children and grandchildren. So far, we are the grandparents of six and a half. Jaina and Jag have a daughter and a son; Jacen and Tenel Ka have a daughter and twin sons; Anakin and his wife Breana have a little boy and Breana is pregnant with a daughter.

Jarik looks like a young version of his father, so I need not say anymore as to how good looking and charismatic my youngest son is. Apparently Lysandra thinks so, too, or she wouldn't be marrying him.

I've know Lysandra's father for a while; he wasn't the Prime Minister when I was more involved with diplomatic relations, but I'm glad he was elected; he reminds me of my father in his affection and respect for those residing on his planet. He'd risen through the ranks and had been loyal to the Rebellion back when he was a young medic; he rose up through the Ministries of Health, demonstrating his abilities and his compassion for others.

The wedding is being held on Cularin at the former Imperial palace. It's the only on planet venue that will hold a thousand guests. It's a weird bit of deja vu, seeing as Han and I were married at Cantham House on Coruscant with a thousand guests.

Lysandra, like her father before her, is a medic. She works for the Galactic Health Consortium for Children on Coruscant, but this is her homeworld, and it was important to her to have it here, and Jarik readily agreed. I was a bit uneasy when Jarik announced that he'd fallen in love with Lysandra; he can legitimately claim royal status but his pride and joy is in piloting and being a bit of a scoundrel. I wonder what her father thought when she introduced him to him. Apparently he was fine with it, and I'm quite certain it's not because our fathers knew each other and we knew each other. He seems to genuinely like our son, despite the fact that like Han, Jarik is a legendary smartass.

He's his father's son.

Right now, I'm in our hotel room, looking at the mother of the groom dress I'd chosen. It's a deep blue with green and purple embroidery. Understated but elegant. I look in the mirror, and instead of seeing a 60 year old woman, I see myself as a young girl again in a white dress, more than a little nervous as I wondered if I would be a good wife.

The 'fresher door opens, and Han is there, wearing only a towel. I catch his glance and he's eyeballing me with a look I've come to cherish over the years. Part rogue, part softness, and unmistakably Han Solo.

"Still like what you see?" he teases me, coming over to where I'm sitting, and wraps his arms around me.

"I always like what I see." I stand up and wrap my arms around him, and we kiss. "However, we don't have long before we have to be at the Palace and I haven't even started my hair."

Han smooths my hair gently. True to Alderaanian custom, I have never cut my hair as an adult and it hangs below my waist.

"Looks fine to me," he says.

"Well, it's fine for when we're in bed," I laugh, "but I think I'd better do something with it." Let's not even mention that I have a lot of grey hair mixed in with the brown. I've considered coloring the grey, but I never get around to it. Besides, even if it would give me the color of a twenty year old, the gods have gotten even with the laugh lines and crows' feet. Other than moisturize, I do nothing about them. Injections are available to make them disappear, but a part of me wants to show the universe that I'm an older woman, and my looks are part of the process and events that have happened in my life.

Han is certainly no longer 30, and he's been grey for a long while now, but his eyes still dance with mischief. I never thought a 70 year old could be a scoundrel, but he still is.

I'd let him have his way with me right now, but when you get older, quickies aren't what it's all about. It takes more time, but if anything, it's deeper and more emotional, the history of our lives together in each act.

There's something about watching your children marry the persons they've fallen in love with, and wishing them nothing but joy but knowing that there are a lot of rocks in the path-some small, others seemingly insurmountable, and you know that they're going to hit some of those along the way. You just hope that as parents, you've done your job right and that they will make good decisions.

Jaina, Jacen, Anakin and Allana are all in the wedding party. I can only imagine the chaos ensuing in each family and it makes me smile. Growing up, our home was always crazy and loud. My grandchildren have not deviated from that pattern. Our family get togethers are noisy affairs.

Despite the fact that we need to be at the Palace in less than an hour, Han is running his hands over my breasts and moves down my body towards my thighs. I think I said something about him still being a scoundrel.

I can't resist him, and he knows it.

Just as he's started to lower me on to the bed, there's loud, frantic knocking at our door. We both groan; no doubt it's one of the kids, at least one.

Han grabs his towel and races back towards the bathroom. I pull a blanket around myself.

It's Jaina with her daughter Taci and her son Elvis, who are jabbering, arguing, and carrying on in the hallway.

"Mom, can you watch them for a while? I'm supposed to be there in 45 minutes and they're going crazy."

"Sure." She looks as if she hasn't even gotten in the shower yet. Her hair is flying everywhere.

"Let me put a bathrobe on," I say to her, shutting the door. I grab at the plush robe that was provided courtesy of the hotel and knot it around me. I open the door again and my grandchildren are racing up and down the hallway.

"Okay, let 'em in," I say.

"Taci! Elvis! Get over here!" Jaina shouts down the hall. She corrals her kids and brings them into my room. "Now listen to Grandma!"

Of course, once she's shut the door, the kids simmer down. They're dressed to attend the wedding.

"Can we have some chocolate?" Taci asks me.

"I don't have any," I tell her.

"They have it in the minibar!"

"They might have it your minibar but they don't have it in ours." I'm not going to be responsible for them destroying their finery. And, from all indications, they're on a sugar high.

"Can we look?" Elvis asks.

"No."

"Where's Grandpa?" Taci demands.

"Getting ready for the wedding. If you want, you can put some holovision on."

"Okay!" Elvis is pleased. Ordinarily, I don't mind their dashing about and creating havoc, but right now, we're on a schedule.

Han pops out of the 'fresher, dressed in his best clothing. He looks incredibly hot.

"You clean up nicely, Flyboy," I whisper to him as I head for the 'fresher.

"Grandpa!" The kids love Han.

"I thought I heard a roar," he says to me, grinning as I remove my dress from the closet door and lock the 'fresher door behind me.

The dress is flattering. I've certainly piled on some weight over the years, nothing immense, but no one would mistake my body for that of a 20 year old. That was so 40 years ago.

I smile, though. I've known my husband for 41 years. Been in love with him for 40. Sometimes I feel maudlin, knowing that there's more behind us than ahead, but I snap out of it pretty fast. Our lives have been rich. Sometimes horrifically painful and difficult, other times infused with sheer joy, and everything in between.

This falls under the joyous category, assuming I can ever get my hair finished. It has times when it refuses to fully cooperate, and this is one of those times. I had planned to wear it up, but it's really not working out. I finally decide I'll wear it in loose waves and use a few clips to keep it off my face. A light touch of cosmetics, and it's as good as it's ever going to get.

Han's on his comm when I emerge. From the sound of it, we're responsible for the transport of Taci and Elvis. Jaina and Jag are well organized and punctual as pilots. Anything else, forget it. Reminds me of Han and I when the kids were younger. Getting them to school on time was challenge enough; getting them there on time bordered much of the time on impossible.

"Wow." Han says, looking at me. "You look terrific. I was afraid you were gonna twist your hair up into something like the one you wore at Anakin's wedding. I like it."

"I'm glad someone's happy with it."

"You're beautiful and you know it. Let's go."

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We're finally at the reception. The memory of how long it took to greet a thousand guests all came flooding back to me. No one was ever happier to get off her feet than I was, with the possible exception of the bride.

Tears came to my eyes earlier as I watched my youngest son at the altar, awaiting his bride, and his expression matched that of his father on the day I walked the aisle to meet Han. Lysandra looked so happy. I've seen the photos of me on my wedding day; we both looked ecstatic. They mirrored us.

What I really want is a drink and the chance to put my dancing slippers on. There is no way in the nine hells I'm going to wear heels out on the floor. As they've gotten older - it seems that they're the same age I am - they balk more at discomfort. The posed holos are over and done with. From here on out, it's candids all the way.

They did better with the cocktail bars than we did at our wedding. We had ten, or 100 guests per bar. I advised Lysandra's parents that they needed at least 20 bars. They put up 25.

"Nice Emera vintage," Han says, handing me a large and very welcome glass of wine. I try not to drink it too quickly. I'm already feeling a heavy mixture of emotions; this is my baby that got married today.

Han drinks a Corellian rum as we sit at the family table. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. It's just been an intense day."

"Last one off," Han said. He's stoic but I know him well, and his emotions run deep. "And he's marrying royalty."

"She's technically not royalty," I remind him.

"She's almost as beautiful as a princess I once met."

"Really? Who was she?"

He takes my hands in his and kisses me.

"Eeuw, gross!" Garek, one of Jacen's twins, sticks his tongue out at us, and Mauro, his brother, follows suit.

"Someday, you'll like it," Han says, winking at them. We kissed again, for good measure. They run off to find their sister and cousins, who no doubt are off creating some sort of havoc. They do, after all, have the Solo blood, and the Skywalker blood as well. The combination, as we have learned, is lethal, as in, you'll die laughing.

Luke and Mara join us at the table. Their son Ben is involved with a woman he will most likely marry. Lilith, their daughter, is a devoted Jedi and at the present, her studies take precedence over everything else.

"This takes me back," Luke says, setting his ale on the table. "Our wedding was tiny compared to yours."

"They got to learn from our mistakes so they have more bars," Han comments, in his usual dry tone.

"To an adequate number of bars," Mara says, raising her glass. We all clink with her.

It's moments like this that make me laugh and at the same time, make me grateful.

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The bride and groom have their first dance. Han and I watch them, and once again, I feel a surge of emotion. My baby's a full grown man who just married a wonderful woman.

"Takes you back, doesn't it?" Han says, taking my hand in his.

"Does it ever."

"I remember dancing with you, that first dance. It's like it was yesterday."

"I hate to tell you this, but I'm afraid the first dance of the night is with our son."

"Damn."

"You survived me dancing with Jacen and Anakin, you know."

"I'll suffer for the cause." He winks at me. He suddenly looks young again. That impish grin still makes me swoon.

The couple and their wedding party are introduced. Tears rise in my eyes as Jarik and Lysandra walk in or, more specifically, dance their way in. Jarik's role as the class clown lives on, and Lysandra is a great foil for him. Both are laughing.

The lights dim and Jarik and Lysandra step out on the dance floor.

"Later on, we're gonna show those kids how it's really done," Han says, his arm around my shoulders.

The next dance is Lysandra and her father.

"You're a much better dancer than he is," I whisper to Han, because it's true. I'd been taught some basic ballroom steps as a young girl, but it was always awkward for me - until I hit the floor with him. Have I mentioned how much I've learned from him?

"Of course I am," he says, eyes sparkling and once again, the wicked smile is in place.

It's now my turn to dance with Jarik. Lysandra chose a sentimental song, but not my son. He picks something lively and funny and energetic, and we're laughing as we dance.

"You're not bad on your feet. For an old lady," my son the smartass says admiringly.

"You know your dad and I haven't given you your wedding present yet. We could change our minds on that," I kid him back.

"Well, you're not that old. Now Dad, he's old."

"Good thing you're dancing with me and not him."

"Yeah yeah yeah." The dance slows. Jarik flings his arms around me. "I love you, Mom."

"I know." I wink at him and take my seat by Han.

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It's been a wonderful evening. Granted, Han and I can't stay out on the floor all night these years; even with comfortable shoes, the fact remains that we're not young anymore.

"Watching the little one makes me feel as if we're passing the torch," I say to Han.

"The little one's 1.83 meters tall," Han reminds me. His tone is dry but I can see that his emotions are running hard right now. Han hides it well - from others. I've been with him long enough to know where he is in that deep water of his emotions.

It's a wonderful evening, laughing with Luke and Mara and many people Han and I have met along the way, and watching our kids and grandkids. They're amazing people, one and all, and my family is my greatest joy in life. To think that when Han and I first together that I was adamant about not having children. That person feels a million miles away.

The last dance is announced. Everyone's on the dance floor, save for a few small children who've had way too much too late and have fallen asleep despite the noise and music surrounding them.

"I think we managed to raise some great kids," Han says to me as he leads me on to the floor for the last dance of the night.

"In spite of ourselves at times, we did."

"And while Jarik thinks he's the luckiest guy in the galaxy tonight, he's wrong."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm the luckiest guy in the galaxy. Always have been, always will be."

He pulls me in close and just as at our wedding reception, there was no one else in the universe but him. For a moment, I swear we're young again.

Or maybe in some way, we never stopped.

The last one's off, and now it's new beginnings all over. As it should be.


End file.
